everything is fine

I can barely withhold my immense Christmas spirit! Christmas is everywhere. I went driving through the mall thing near my house and it's all decorated for Christmas. Lights strung up between the lamp posts and across the streets. Trees adorned with ornaments and lights and candy canes everywhere. And Santa sitting on a big chair, and a big line of kids waiting to tell him what they want. Or to cry. Or pee in his lap. Whatever it is that kids do while on Santa's lap. "It ruins it for me." She said about the omnipresent holiday. The Christmas inundation we already have. It's not even December yet and Christmas is kicking everybody in the balls. She doesn't want to hear about Christmas on the radio or on television yet because it's too early. Well it's too bad, I think, because I am already in the mood for holidays. Fuck finals! I've already finished most of my Christmas shopping. Which I think is kind of wrong. But oh well. It's alm...

People are stupid. And so are children. Especially the children of stupid people. I decided to do some shopping today. I got some jeans and a nice button up shirt. The sleeves are a little shorter than I'd like, but the overall fit is so wicked that I couldn't say no. And, I mean, come on: it's black. So later in the day when I had gotten my clothes and my books, I went over to the nearby sporting goods store. You know, to look around. A horde of children had taken it upon themselves to take down all of the scooters and tricycles and made the store into a giant circuit race. I passed an employee and cocked an eyebrow. "I guess we get double duty as baby sitters." He said. The children weaved in and out of the sections and aisles, forcing aside soccer moms and football dads and almost-sorority girls. But not me. I stood my ground in the middle of the aisle as I compared the sizes of gloves. And I'm always in a bad mood. "Um, excuse me." ...

I thought, for a while, about why my pumpkin pie didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. Why it didn't turn out tasty as hell , I should say. It was mediocre at best. I could blame it on the poor quality of this season's pumpkin harvest. I could blame it on not having all the proper ingredients. I could blame it on being tired. But I think it was nerves. Making pumpkin pie is one of the few traditions that my family actually observes religiously. The guys get together and make the pie. And it always turns out excellently. When I was younger, my dad made it on his own. Then, when I was of cooking age, I helped him. And now, in his absence, I found myself making it alone. To some people, it's just making a pie. But it's more like a torch being passed on. And flickering, slightly. I was nervous, and I had something to prove. And I messed it up. But it was my first time to do it on my own. There's a trial period. It's just one of those reminders ...

The plate of turkey was offered to me as I rounded the table. They had taken the liberty of cutting it before I'd gotten there. I looked down at the platter. What had once been a nice looking bird was now a gruesome, mangled mess of meat piled on top of itself. No grace. No dignity. No refinement. Just raw savagery. I smiled and took my seat. The rest of the meal went as expected. People yelling to be heard over the yelling of other people struggling to be heard. Food being spilled all over the table and all over everything else. Boisterous laughter and virtually every single irritating mannerism I could have imagined. And when I couldn't take anymore, I fled to the relative safety of my room and closed the door and locked it. Locked out the infinite terrible that is my family. And then, after what was too short of a night to myself, I awoke to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade being blasted through the house. And then, I had Thanksgiving with Ashley's fami...

I'm tired. And I don't do too terribly well when I'm tired. I get impatient. Cranky. I have mood swings and all kinds of bullshit. So I did what I do whenever anything happens--I ran. It's pathetic to be so self-aware and so not in control of yourself. I don't know. I am exhausted. What a long weekend. I just can't wait to go home for Thanksgiving. Have a few days off. Do some writing. See my doggie dog. Sleep. I feel like I slept a lot this weekend, but I don't think I really did. Why else would I be in such a bad mood now?

Today, I went to the gym and found something new. I found a room with pads on the floor and walls. A room with a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. It was like walking into a dream come true. It was exactly what I had been looking for for months. For years , even. And I attacked that bag. I'll be spending a lot of time there, I think. I have been in such an inexplicably good mood these last few days. I don't know what the deal is. Maybe it's because I've been eating so many bananas. It's probably because things are going pretty well and I'm just feeling good. Doing nice things, feeling confident. Good things. And most importantly, I'm feeling less tired. Maybe it was a diet change. Maybe it's all the exercise. I will probably never know, but that doesn't bother me.

I got really sad when I saw that the last time I had edited the file called zombie story.docx was 7/23/2009. It doesn't seem like it's been all that long, but it does. Because it has. It's a little ridiculous. I always have a rough time coming back to the writing after a break. I think I would probably not have such a rough time if I, oh I don't know, didn't take breaks from writing it. Maybe it would actually get done. Although, every time I come back to it with a fresh mind I get to go through and touch up everything I've written so far. It's just one of those, you know, things. Thinking about my zombie story all the time again makes me want to make a zombie movie. I will never be productive again. I've got an organic chemistry test tomorrow evening and I just can't seem to take any of it seriously. The panic hasn't started because it hasn't sunk in just how unprepared I really am. I am enjoying the delusion of preparation right ...

So I thought it would be a really good time to lay out a blanket and do some stargazing. And watch the Leonids come cascading across the November sky. Well it turns out that I really don't know my constellations, so I have no idea where Leo is. And birds look a lot like meteors. I fucking hate birds. It's been an interesting sort of day. I'm mostly glad it's just sort of over. I've got some motivation coming to get back into writing my zombie story, which is great. I've long needed a good kick in the dick in the balls to get cracking on that. It's just sitting there and I'm doing nothing with it.

If I had to pick a sin to represent myself and was unable to pick wrath , I would probably have to pick pride. When it comes to things that I consider myself good at--passionate about, even--I have a tendency to, well, consider myself pretty good at them. Like filmmaking. I hate having to share my creative outlet with other people. I just can't deal with it. I can't share the writing. I can't share the direction. I can't share the editing. It's in my head! How can they possibly expect to make something that's in my head? How can they expect to improve on my ideas? And so things go. Despite the complications and the stress and the sleep deprivation, the movie got finished. It got finished and turned in and I'm not super proud of it, but it's done. And my day ended after 36 hours. I think I'm going to just make movies on my own. On my own time. If I ever do, again. My geology contest actually went surprisingly well. Especially for how...

I am lucky in that things always seem to work out for me. Maybe I'm forced to do something I really don't want to do. With minimal effort I'll come through with something completely amazing. Maybe I have to work on something I'm completely dispassionate about. All of the complications get figured out with ease and things turn out better than expected. It's the things that I want to work out that I struggle with. The little things. And that sucks. It's the little thing that you look forward to that you think is going to be worth dredging through all the shit for. And it never quite works out. It just sort of doesn't. And you come down to the end of everything and you end up not feeling anything at all. Self-sabotage. Self-inflicted wound. And I can't be mad because I have no more mad left in me. At this point, I have nothing left in me. I feel like an empty husk just sort of teetering around during its last few seconds before it gets blown ov...

Me and my big mouth. I need to go back to the stage in my life where I didn't open my mouth and talk all the time. It gets me into trouble. What happened to my filter? I must be broken. Oh well. Today I looked down and thought to myself, man. My jeans are kind of loose. I could probably stand to wear some that are fitted better. Something that would compliment my body shape. Then I realized that I had already gone through this thought process and that the jeans I was wearing were already skinny. Any skinnier and I would be wearing skin tight pants, which is not okay. For a second I thought I finally understood why so many dirty hipsters ended up wearing tight pants that looked terrible. But then I remember that it's because they can't form a fashion sense of their own. I decided to set an ultimate goal for working out. I want to look like Brad Pitt from Fight Club . That guy is a fucking monster. Just all raw muscle. He only weighed, like, 155 pounds in that...

The worst thing about good moods is that they are infectious. And today was such a nice day that people couldn't help but be in good moods which put me in a bad mood because I was in a good mood by proxy and couldn't help but be in a good mood. So I was in a good mood. And things are going well, I think. I mean, I could definitely find something to complain about, but I won't. I'm doing laundry now. I'm ready to play some music, again. Soon. It's been too long since that happened and I know this because I'm going through withdrawals . I also need to write. I've got some things bouncing around in my head. I just need that trigger of inspiration to come in. In a catalytic amount. So that these ideas can precipitate out. And it'll be glorious. I guess I just have to wait for winter break. We're doing the film contest thing this weekend and I'm having second thoughts partly because I'm flaky by nature and partly because, well, I...

Today was just one of those days. One of those days where you wake up and everything and everybody is against you. These days happen to me more often than I like, but that comes with being a relapsing surly, cynical bastard given to frequent and extreme mood swings. Everything just got under my skin today. Maybe it was waking up early before my alarm clock. Maybe it was the laugh they made when they messed up the first time. Maybe it was the look they gave when they thought they were being funny. Maybe it was the inflection they took when they got cranky. Maybe it was everything. But I think I did a pretty good job of playing it down. Of not taking it the wrong way. Of not letting it get to me. I mean, by now I'm pretty used to the routine. And I know it's not being fair to people. It's not them, it's me. I'm the one who's blowing up. So, you know. It's all over. For some reason I thought that the meteor shower was tonight. It was what I was l...

"I don't know why he's so upset. Like, I straight up told him, 'I don't know why you're so upset,' but he just, like, I don't know." She said to her friend perhaps a little too loudly. "Like, he thought we were exclusive but, I mean, I told him that we weren't, like, exclusive when we got together. So now he's all upset that I've been seeing other guys. I, like, totally don't understand him at all. He's just being ridiculous." I managed to overhear this conversation on my way to class this morning. While I could easily--and am certainly tempted to--write about this story is indicative about how terrible girls can be, I think it is more of an example of the constant failure of communication in relationships. It's something that everybody could stand to work on. Unfortunately, not enough people recognize this and that's why things fall apart and things get broken. Or flipped. And I don't think yell...

One of my worst qualities is that I tend to obsess about things. I have obsessive tendencies. Especially when it comes to bad things. Even more so when it comes to bad things about myself. Like something I screwed up or did poorly on. I, for whatever reason, carry that weight around my neck as quickly as possible and never really let it go. It burns holes in me. And I think about it all the time. Maybe that's some kind of self-destructive bullshit I've got going on. I've been thinking a lot about traveling. I want to go somewhere. Well, I want to go to a lot of somewheres. Just pack up and check out a whole bunch of places. And also film it. I've been thinking a lot about that, too. I want to make a travel show called Gabe Goes Places and it'll be about me going places and doing cool stuff. And every episode will start the same way: with me yelling into the camera, "My name is Gabe and I go places." And then, with my adventure bag, I'll...

It was late. I was tired and I wasn't really thinking straight. And so when I heard the man clear his throat in the office across the hallway, my heart fluttered. I stood up from my seat and took a step before I stopped myself. It wasn't my dad. He's not here. It was my uncle who is staying in his office. It was disappointing. I think I'm ready to get out of here. I tried getting along for a while and that's just not working out. I think it's time for me to completely get out. Get my own space and just start living. It's time for me to start my own life where people don't fight with you because you're studying and not cleaning. Where people don't get mad at you because you call someone else out for going through your stuff. I have never been one to tolerate favoritism, and in my absence I forgot that it runs rampant here. It's just time to cut my losses, I guess.

I hate using public restrooms. They are disgusting. It's worse for guys, I think. Girls tend to want things to stay clean and usable. Guys don't. There is always a puddle of urine directly underneath the urinal because the first guy apparently can't aim his stream, the second guy takes a step back so he isn't standing in piss and so on and so forth until you find yourself standing against the opposite wall trying to arc your urine into the porcelain but only adding to the urine pooling on the tile. It's, you know, pretty terrible. The thing that really sucks these days is that everything potentially cool happens on Thursdays. Maybe a professor will be giving a lecture on the scientific background of zombies. Which is something I could definitely get behind. Maybe it would give me the kick in the dick in the balls to get back to writing my story so that I could finish it before I die. Maybe Jester, in its infinite shittiness, will host a jam session and put ...

I am afraid of birds. Well, specifically, I'm afraid of birds pooping on me. I just really don't want to deal with bird poop. I don't even like stepping on bird poop on sidewalks. I'd rather walk in the street than walk across bird poop. It's just disgusting. Birds and the poops they poop are disgusting. Walking across sidewalks plastered in bird poop makes me cringe and want to die. I spent some time at the office today, which I think was a good idea. I will probably do that more often as long as I can spare the time. It's pretty fun to hang out and talk with friends like that. It's like the fast track to getting to know people. And I get to draw more, which is always a good thing. I had immediately forgotten his name, which made me feel bad. But in my defense, it was Halloween. "I've heard good things about you." He said. "Oh that's good," I replied. "Because I'm very self-conscious and struggle with my ...

Patient presents with nausea, dizziness, light-headedness, fatigue, and general sickness. Only allergic to minocin, has seasonal allergies. Currently taking ibuprofen, fluticasone propionate (nasally). No pertinent history. Last intake was a multi-vitamin. When I woke up this morning I felt incredible. I slept and slept and slept and when I woke up it was still eight in the morning so I slept some more. And after I showered I felt great. I was well rested and ready to tackle Monday. And then I went outside and immediately felt terrible. I don't know what the deal is. Maybe I'm dying. Who knows. Today was an especially exciting day in organic chemistry. There was a couple behind me who kept talking about random shit during the lecture. It was at this point in time that Dr. Bocknack began to discuss the dihydroxylation of alkenes , and drew the intermediate: an osmate ester . The couple looked up at the figure in confusion, abruptly ending their conversation about c...

The music worked. We played for hours. It's good to finally meet someone who can match that enthusiasm. It was a good time. It was comfortable, which is hard to get with people. It was balanced. It was a conversation. I felt like I had found my musical niche. I wasn't struggling to keep up. I wasn't struggling to keep everything together. I wasn't stuck completing a formula. I just filled in when I felt like I could add something and laid low when I didn't. Nobody was there expecting me to do anything amazing--just to play. I had found my niche. And we jammed. And we'll be doing it again. Who knew a bass and a guitar would make such a good sound? I was really excited about getting to play soccer today, but according to the website we aren't scheduled to play tonight. So it's been, like, four weeks since I played soccer. I hate this. I guess I can just do laundry and watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles instead. I want to watch Nightmare...

I actually really wanted to go to the haunted house. Otherwise I wouldn't have tried to get everybody excited about it. "Let's just play it by ear," I said. "I bet we can get tickets there." And, of course, we couldn't. It was a clusterfuck. And then I was the bad guy. And it was getting late and it was cold and everyone was disappointed and we just went back home. Halloween! I played some music today because I had the free time and because I'm so excited about playing music this weekend. I didn't write anything new, but I got to play something for somebody. Which is always nice. I need to take advantage of that more often. I think I really struck a chord with her today, though. She told me she could feel the emotion in the song I was playing. And she opened up. It was excellent. I'll have to play clarinet for her soon. Jonathan and Rachel did a fucking amazing job with this. I keep staring at it thinking about how good it look...

Well, registration is in the morning. I need to take field methods to stay relatively on track with my geology degree. I say that I need to because: I don't want to procrastinate in college--I've got plans for my life--and I don't really want to get off track with the friends I'm making in my geology classes right now. I also need to take organic chemistry to stay relatively on track with pre-medicine requirements. I can't take both because they're double-booked. So, I guess it really comes down to this: which is more important to me? Geology or medicine? It's not an easy choice. Life's tough like that, sometimes. So, in these next few hours, I'll be doing some soul searching. Or maybe I'm just over-analyzing things. Either way, it doesn't really matter. This weekend is going to be great. I don't know what I'm going to be for Halloween, but I don't care. I'm going to play some music and it's going to be amazi...

I've been keeping my ears open--and my mind wandering. And I can feel that swell again. The fingers aching for the feel of metal and wood again. I think I'm going to be writing some stuff in these next few days. I don't know what it's going to be about, but it's going to be satisfying. And then I'll make a band. I've got a bass player. Or, you know what, I think that's all I need. I just need to get this going. Transcribe some stuff? It's hard to play with new people. Do you prepare stuff you already have or do you let new stuff come out. I don't know. But it doesn't matter as long as we get jamming. And we will. Copying someone else's drawing style is really hard. And really time consuming. I'm so glad I'm working on it on the computer so I can just magically do away with all my many mistakes. I would go insane if I did it by hand. I'm figuring out my schedule for next semester. I'm going to be a busy, bus...

It's hard to like his music because I don't like him on principle. And I think he has a bad singing voice. But we had to listen to the song so many times that I started to notice something about it. The music. There was something about it. The instruments, the way they fit together, and the way the song grew and built. It was music. It was like a tide--ebbing and flowing and I couldn't help but feel that when we were dancing. It was penetrating. Permeating. Inundating. Intoxicating. "Do you miss jazz band?" She asked. "Yes." I immediately answered. "I miss it a lot. And you don't get opportunities like that anymore." "Yeah." She said. I need my saxophone. I neeeeed it. I need someone to sit there for about twenty minutes playing blues while I empty my brain out. God, I need it. I need to play music with somebody. I feel like I'm dying. Like I'm suffocating. Like I'm fucking drowning . I won...

Well, that's it. I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm twenty years old. I don't feel older. Or more mature. Or anything really. I'm just a guy--a man, even--who spins around in circles too much. Maybe I'll have that life awakening experience next year. It was a pretty good day. I woke up to the words "Congratulations on successfully earning your national EMS certification." And everybody was really happy today. And I just felt good all day. And even the weather was really nice. The perfect mix of moody, cold, and depressing--my kind of day. I had my tarot cards read today. Which I was absolutely not expecting to have happen. I also read some astrology stuff about myself. It wasn't anything I didn't already know, naturally. I mean, how much can a book like that really tell you about yourself? For that matter, what can a deck of cards tell you? A surprising and sobering amount, actually. Which is good, I guess. I am bored. I have to ...

I didn't expect today to go well after this morning. My laundry came out either warm and dry or still damp. But all of it was completely and utterly wrinkled. That was, for some reason, the most irritating thing that's happened to me in a while. I lost it. And then I heard that there was a hole that got punched in the cake. So I kind of gave up on stuff. But then I got told my writing was occasionally sexy. I've never gotten that compliment before. And it was really nice. I've gotten good , natural , and eloquent . But never sexy . That was when things turned around for the better. Then we went to see Where the Wild Things Are and that was a good time. It had a lot more to it than the book did, obviously. There was a lot of emotion. A lot of emotion I could relate to. The ending was sad and satisfying in an unsatisfying way. There was no heavy message getting spelled out for the audience, and I liked that. It wasn't too preachy. "Oh, I know yo...

I got to cook today. I've been looking forward to it all week. Chicken fettuccine alfredo with spinach. And I made my own sauce, too! I was excited to do it. I never really have a chance to experiment with my cooking since I have such limited opportunities to cook, period. It worked out surprisingly well, I think. And everyone smiled and was very polite when they told me it was good. Who knows. The only thing is that I'm starting to feel a little sick, so let's hope it's not from my own cooking. Because I cooked it with love. I have, perhaps, doomed us all. I cut my thumb when I was slicing a lemon in half. It was careless. And then it hurt. And it bled a little, but luckily I got it wrapped up with a paper towel and a rubber band. What kind of ghetto-medic shit is that? I'm really anxious about my test, actually. I took it this morning and it was pretty hard. So let's hope I didn't, you know, fucking fail it. I find out on Monday, I guess....

I can't believe it's already Thursday. I have to do so much studying tomorrow. I absolutely cannot afford to fail that EMT exam Saturday morning. I can't and I won't. It's my birthday present to myself. It'll make all the hard work justified and it'll make the weekend totally worth it. I hung out with some friends tonight. It was kinda weird because I really don't hang out with them all that much and I feel like I ought to. Partly because I work with them and partly because, well, hanging out with them is always so much fun. So hopefully that'll be happening a whole lot more often. I could use letting off steam. And that pie. I actually spent time drawing the background today. Well, not really. I drew the background and then turned the opacity down so it would look really fancy I guess. Spencer's coming in tomorrow for something. Hopefully we'll get to meet up. I want him to meet Ashley so I can get his opinion. I mean, you know...

For the past few weeks I have been observing the different ways people walk and I've discovered two different patterns. In men, I mean. Some guys take steps and immediately bounce back up onto the balls of their feet as they walk forward. They lean forward when they walk and it looks very awkward. They push themselves forward. These people are usually timid and quiet, always the sidekick friend seeking the approval of his peer group for his actions. He's always unsure of himself, which is why he leans forward to walk--he's always in a rush. The other pattern is taking steps and leaving the foot down until the last possible moment and then almost dragging it to the next step. These guys lean back when they walk. They usually move a little slower and basically pull themselves along. And they look confident. These are the loners and the leaders--never in a rush to get anywhere because the world revolves around them. Naturally, I fit into the latter group. I really ne...

So today I passed by a booth in the Jester foyer. It was about the student center for mental health on campus, and the various programs and whatnot it offers. I got a free stress ball. "It's really good," the girl at the booth told me. "The center, not the stress ball. Well, the stress ball too." "Great, thanks." I said. So I sat in my room and thought for a little bit. I looked at the website. They could talk to you about stress and anxiety. They could talk to you about depression. It seemed like they had a lot to offer and I thought that maybe it was something worth looking into. And so I made my way across campus to the student health center. But halfway there I chickened out and went to the Union to upgrade my ID card instead. And now my ID has proximity reader capability, which I think is pretty boss. I tried some of the self-help, hypnotherapy relaxation bullshit on their website and it didn't do anything but stress me out more bec...

So I thought it would be a good idea to go running today. I dressed out and took off running toward the Capital with my music getting me pumped up. As I made my round around the building, my ear buds fell out so I stopped to fix them. It hit me, then. The dizziness and the seeing spots and all that. I felt sick, and so I walked back home. I never really shook that malaise though. There just isn't enough time in the days to fit in all the studying I need to do. I can barely focus on anything because I'm trying to focus on everything at the same time. I love being stressed, but this is a little too much for me. There are too many important things that need to go well for me to keep track of. I'll go ahead and say it: I am unhappy with my situation. She brought up something that she was unhappy with. Which is good; that's what we want. It's always been much easier for her to do that. But it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair and I didn't have the ener...

I looked at my comic and realized that I forgot to draw The Administrator's beard. And then I looked at it again and realized that I had misspelled "thought." I am so embarrassed.

The most exciting part of my day was when I woke up and walked straight to CVS in my pajamas to buy shampoo. I was tired of using my cheap, mismatched shampoo and conditioner combination and after weeks of being unsatisfied with it, I bought some. After deliberating--agonizing--for minutes in the aisle, I finally settled on some Herbal Essences Anti-Frizz shampoo and conditioner. And some sort of Herbal Essences hair styling gel. Which was a magnificent failure. The problem is, really, that I don't know anything about hair--or fashion, for that matter. Or, I guess, that I really don't care. But I was excited about the shampoo and conditioner. And it made my hair feel amazing. Which is probably the most important part. This week is going to be so stressful. I'm probably going to be dead by the end of it. But, you know. Who's worried? I just really want to play soccer again. It's been, like, three weeks. I also really want to play the drums. I think I sho...

The other day I saw a butterfly fluttering around. Suddenly, a bird swooped down to snatch it out of the air. Before the bird could grab the butterfly in its beak, another bird swooped down and attacked the first bird. The two birds struggled in flight for a moment before going their separate ways. And the butterfly fluttered away. It's tempting to read into the story with some bullshit insight about how people can overcome their differences to help each other and accomplish good things which can then be applied to racism and intolerance and such. Or maybe it was a story about how lucky people can be without realizing it--or appreciating it. But I think the best interpretation is that it's easier for people to hate each other. I've been working on being less bitter and cynical because I haven't earned the right to be. I don't have enough jaded years under my belt to justify a world-weary attitude. And, more importantly, I don't need to be. I shouldn't...

The other day I found myself walking by the Harry Ransom Center through the courtyard. As I walked through, I came across a couple sitting together on a bench. They were making out. But they weren't just making out, they were making out with perfect form. Their backs were perfectly straight, their feet firmly planted on the ground, their arms wrapped around each other forming solid frames. They were bent over each other at angles that I've never seen a couple form before. It was uncomfortable to see. I won't pretend to know why , but last night I had a strange dream. I had a dream that I was a father. It was one of those idyllic scenes. You come home from work and there are, like, kids all excited to see you and stuff and there's, like, a lady in your nice house who you're married to. It was surprisingly not stressful. It was peaceful. It's something to look forward to, I'm told. And now I'm watching the ending of Knocked Up . It makes me wond...

Even though it seemed like a terrible idea, I went to the gym today. I went to the gym even though I donated blood today. I went to the gym even though everyone said it was a bad idea. I went to the gym because, well, You have to get serious about something eventually. And so, here we go! I do feel slightly terrible, but come on here: do I look like a bitch? Tests are inbound and I'm super unprepared. But, I mean, that's how it goes most of the time. I can't believe it's only Wednesday. It feels like the day where everything happens and I'm not prepared to deal with it. I really want to go somewhere and do something that isn't sitting around studying.

Today after lab I took some time to lay around in bed because I was tired. And then, in a moment of fleeting semi-consciousness, I watched some of Aladdin . A lot of people complain about how Disney movies promote this or that but what really caught my attention was the scene where the Sultan talks to Jasmine about getting married. Jasmine complains about how she doesn't want to be married off in spite of the law. About how important it is that she marry somebody she is in love with. And then, as he puts a dove back into its bird cage, the Sultan gets serious: "Jasmine, it's not only this law. I'm not going to be around forever, and I just want to make sure you're taken care of, provided for." The lights in his eyes dim for just a moment as he solemnly acknowledges his mortality. He lowers his defenses to express his honest concern for the future well being of his daughter. And, in response, she says: "Try to understand. I've never done a thi...

When it is a legitimate dilemma whether to go out with your friends for food or stay in and watch Return of the Jedi on television, you know that your life has become, well, something. And when you end up getting to do both? That's how you know you're the best. I need to get a good night of sleep tonight. I haven't been sleeping well these past few days, and it's killing me slowly. The headaches, the dizzy spells, the zoning out. But in my sleepless nocturnal hours I've been brainstorming my zombie story again. Not that I'll get a chance to write it soon. It's just good to keep it boiling in my mind, I guess. But I need sleep. I decided to do a Halloween themed story arc. I don't know how long I can keep the medic suspended, though. Probably not much longer. But I don't want to drag it out too long. I'm not even sure how to deal with it. I've never been in a situation like it before. At some point I'll have to talk about it-...

For a few days I sat around and wondered what happened to my good streak. It was there for days and then suddenly I was freaking out and getting stressed. But things are actually pretty good. Except for all the tests coming up. The weather is getting cold and so I get to wear all the sweet cold weather clothes I have. Which is pretty great, I think. I get to rock the balance between "I'm a handsome devil" and "I don't care," which is exactly where I want to hover. This week is about to kick off and I'm ready for it. I have to change my routine because I need to start going to the gym regularly. I have to, you know, get in shape. Gain some body mass. And everything worked out in the end. The only real problem is communication, which is definitely getting worked on. Lucky me.

I played music today. I played a lot of music today. And then I listened to more music. I got a bunch of new music to stimulate myself with. I haven't done that in a while. I also got some music from the 90's as a form of reeducation, I guess. Not sure what to say about that. Music helps with stress management. When I ignore music, I get stressed. But now I can play Mrs. Robinson . You know what else helps with stress? Sometimes it's like, why do I bother. I just don't have any expectations anymore. "We don't think alike." She said. "No," I replied. "We don't." And we walked down the hall. Sometimes I think I'm the only one who keeps the ball rolling, but I'm sure that's me just being unfair.

I took a long, slow walk through campus. There wasn't anybody else out. It was kind of surreal, like I had stepped into my imagined post-apocalyptic world. The only sound was my footsteps as I warily made my way across the abandoned campus under a sky of sickly red. The darkness behind me reached out with malicious tendrils, wrapping more around my ankles with each step. And then I got back to Jester and heard a bunch of terrible music playing, which totally ruined the atmosphere. It's always hard to admit that you're sucking it up at something. And I have been. But that's an easy fix. I just need to chill out. What is there to panic about? Besides everything? No, I guess that's not the way to approach it. I just need to relax. Which is hard. Like, who even knows how to do that anymore? Oh well.

I am ready for Fall. I am ready for a break. I am ready for, you know, whatever. I want to go save penguins in Australia. Or whatever. My brain is scattered. I had something to talk about earlier but I totally forgot. Today's comic is equally uninspired.

My days are getting overbooked. There's just too much to do. Too many things I need to do in order to do the too many things I want to do. I'm trying to prioritize things responsibly and it's getting pretty difficult. Things like the caving meeting I should go to since it's the last one before the caving trip I want to go on but there's also a comics seminar type thing at the same time and if I don't go to the caving meeting then I probably won't go on the trip which means I can go to Westlake's homecoming as an excuse to meet up with my classmates who I otherwise wouldn't have the initiative to meet up with otherwise and I won't have to worry about missing my soccer game. But then if I have time to do all those things then that means I have time to study more geology or chemistry which I should be doing because those tests are coming up again soon and I'm falling behind in my work. But I still have to worry about reviewing for my medic...

"I mean, do you even do that?" She asked. "Do what?" I asked. "Worry." "Yes." I said. She scoffed. And I do. A lot. I just don't show it like other people do, I guess. Which is to say I don't come and tell them I'm worried about them. Maybe because I have an uncanny grasp of subtlety. Maybe because I just don't show things as easily as people expect. Probably because I have more faith in people than they like to give me credit for. And I'm worried. Nobody goes from borderline despondent back to normal overnight. But she did, and that makes me wonder if I'm kicked back to square one. I hope not. It's hard to sit and watch people deal with themselves but it's even harder to try and get involved. It's just complicated all around. Especially when you don't know what to do. But, things are going in a good direction, so I'm a little less worried. She asked about the comics and how I draw t...

The moments when I open my mouth and say things are when my troubles start. They are always self-inflicted. I need, like, a filter.

Last week was a great week. And I still just as good about this week as I did about last week. I think it's going to be a great week. This and every week. Forever. It's just intuition. I didn't realize that the cord to my headphones was, like, twelve feet long. It's just insane. I had to coil it up and then tie it so it wouldn't get tangled up in everything. I had a long conversation last night with a friend about the zombie apocalypse. And I realized that we're not ready for it. When the zombies come, we're all going to panic and probably die. Which is not okay. The thing I took away from it was inspiration to go back and take a look at my zombie story. I was planning to work on it this weekend but I got distracted by other things. But no longer! Today I'm going to sit down for at least a couple of hours and work on it. It's been simmering in the back of my mind for months now. I've been stuck at this one part, which is why I stopp...

Shopping was a pretty good time. Even though it was raining and being at the mall is generally terrible, it was a pretty good time. I don't really get to hang out with John all that much anymore, so it was nice getting to do that again. I mean, just hanging out with him. Usually it's within the context of hanging out with the gang. And it was something I took for granted. Just chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool. I think it's something he doesn't do all too often now. And that's bad. So we walked around, shopped, ate, drove around a little and talked about goofy stuff. Just like old times. I've always wondered how adults can lose track of their friends so easily. That always boggled my mind. I mean, if you're such good friends, how can you just stop hanging out with them and doing friend stuff? I think I understand it a little better, now. We just get too caught up in ourselves and what we think we should be doing. And then we forget about ...

Those crazy kids. I like tutoring. Dealing with kids is actually pretty fun, even though I complain about kids a lot. Too bad I only get to do it once a week. I feel like there's so much we can learn from kids and blah blah blah. Just, you know, your typical "kids are so great and we grew up too much" kind of stuff. I ate so much tonight. I'm actually really full. We're going to go clothes shopping this weekend! I'm pretty excited. That means I can get some jeans or some button-ups or some sweaters or some sweater vests or something. It's going to be great.

I think the worst thing you can do is put a bunch of women in a room together. Like, I really think it's the worst thing ever. They can all be great, wonderful people individually but when you put them all together to play board games... it sucks. It's a mess because they don't know how to organize themselves. There's no order, just chaos. Chaos and loud, obnoxious women. What is it about women that makes them so loud and obnoxious when they congregate? Bunch of uncivilized savages. And I, of course, am the wildly unbiased observer. I drew this in a rush, which explains why the background only has one color instead of three (which would have indicated layering) and why it just generally looks rushed. There is an actual plan to this story arc, but I couldn't resist responding to the comments my friend was making. I was running late to the Women in Medicine meeting which was actually interesting during the lecture portion. I also didn't get a chance to f...

I totally would've forgotten about it. In fact, I totally did forget about it until it got mentioned today. But, you know, gotta play it cool! And, so, you know. Yeah. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. A long, inconvenient day. I think I'm going to go home this weekend. I'm going to go home and then go to a store and look at sweaters. Because I want to wear a sweater with a shirt underneath it.

Man, I don't even know what I'm supposed to do about that. I can force myself to talk more while eating, even though that's a ridiculously hard habit to break. I can relax more. But how I use dining utensils? I mean, come on here. That's being a little ridiculous. Maybe I'm not the one who needs to relax. What happened to it being quirky? Not that I'm upset or anything. I've got another story arc planned out for my comics mainly because I don't feel like I can think of any more one-shot comics that are funny enough. So I have to go for depressing. The thing that I've found is that, no matter how depressing people find things to be, they can still laugh. At depressing things. It's because they don't know how else to react. And because they don't know, they try to find the funny side. It's a coping mechanism. And I love it. I need to go clothes shopping. I need more button-up shirts. All of my button-ups have sleeves are ...

I forgot how much I love playing soccer. That game is just fun. It's more fun that ultimate frisbee. Or disc golf. Soccer. It lets you get all your aggression out. Gives you a focus for it. Gets your blood pumping. There's nothing quite like the feeling of the grass ripping up under your cleats as you run down the field. Nothing quite like the sound of the ball bouncing off of your foot into the air. Nothing quite like the feeling you get when you intercept a ball at the last second and have it bounce back to hit them in the face. Not that, you know, you do that on purpose. It was a good game. And a good time coming back to find out a good test grade. Today was a good day. Soccer, grades, finally scheduled my exam. I have a good feeling about this week. I think it's going to be a good time. I feel different. I feel... good. I'm excited.

D:

I don't really know if things are totally back to normal. Partly because I don't know if things were ever really normal and partly because I'm not really sure what constitutes normal. All I know is that I'm not worried about it. I've learned that people are not perfect. So, then, it follows that relationships between people will not be perfect. And the trick to making it successful is accepting that it won't always be a great time. Something to work on, I guess. A friend of mine told me that she believed that there wasn't one person out there for us. And she told me that the trick was just to find someone who makes you happy. And that's it. So I guess I really don't care if things aren't normal. I don't need them to be.

Organic chemistry tests are exhausting. I feel like my brain shut down an hour ago but the rest of my is either too stubborn or too dumb to realize it. Like, am I hungry? I don't even know. I am but I'm not? I can't even remember. Has anyone really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like?

I have been told, from time to time, that I am too nice of a person. To the point where even when I'm trying to be mean, I'm still nice. To the point where I am a pushover. To the point where it makes people feel guilty. To the point where it's a fault. And so, as a thought experiment, I tried to figure out what constitutes as being nice. Obviously, the conscious efforts. Not so obviously, the unconscious efforts. So I sat and I thought about them and tried to eliminate them. How do you stop being a nice guy? First, you just act like everything is a normal, casual, boring experience. Don't get excited, don't ask for anything. So I tried it. Maybe it was too drastic; somebody noticed.

I can't say that I'm particularly surprised. I knew what I was getting into. I guess the lesson to take away from this is that people can be spectacularly stupid sometimes. Which is a pretty good lesson to learn. It's always nice to figure out what the people you spend your time with are really like. That way you hold them in a lower regard than you did before, just like they want you to. I mean, if they didn't want that then they wouldn't bring it up all the time, right? I guess it's just disappointing. I did some thinking last night. I'm making a mess of things. Man, fuck everything.

Suddenly there is a lot to worry about. There's too much stuff to do. Stress levels, rising. Panic, panic, panic! Can't sleep. Too tired. Too much to do. Not enough time to take care of everything. I just need a to detox without running the risk of catching death. Or, I guess, I could bite the bullet on that one. Are things getting worked out? I can't tell sometimes. I think so. Or, I'd like to think so. I feel like they are. I think things are going well. It's a matter of perception, though. Do I count as optimistic? My head is spinning. I need to play some music. Write something? I need to write zombies. I keep thinking about it. Thinking about everything, really. I feel like I'm stressing out over finals, but it's just regular tests. And labs. And whatever else. I don't even know. Also, what's up with people telling me things and then forgetting and acting like I'm a jackass when I remember? Is that, like, the new thi...

People are difficult. I'm tired.

I don't know. I just feel like shit and it's my fault. I just never have anything to say. I don't. I don't even know what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling. I don't. It's frustrating when people expect you to. The truth is, I can't really say what I want if I don't know what I want. That makes me sound like an idiot, but what can you do. I just never know what to say. Nothing ever comes to mind.