November 8th, 21:44 | waiting to wake up

Been thinking about what RecentEx said last night. About Us, about how I work as a person, about my life and reactions here in Kingston. I've been thinking about the music I listen to these days, and why I think I work so well with the Boy, and how I think my approach to everyone and everything in the world has changed/compares, and also about my shopping trip (in the company of RecentEx) this afternoon.

It's been a quiet day. Tranquil. Full of sleepy, quiescent thoughts. Let's start with yesterday.

It was alright. A Friday, I was feeling alright, relatively productive, then had to deal with all the spazzing of the anime club as they cancelled today's anime showing (the reason, by the way, that my parents chose to come see me on a Sunday (more tiring for them) rather than on a Sunday; grr) and mild abrasiveness on the part of MetallicBoy. Whatever. I turn to my AI essay (syntactic analysis/grammars -- topic I totally love; I heart parsers/parsing) and figure I'll get it final-draft-y, then hit the caf before it closes at 8. I realize that on Fridays the caf closes at seven, and my dinner is thusly forfeit. So I go back to the essay. I have oreos, it's all good. Ask the Boy to proofread quickly for me (it wasn't a very long essay) and we get into a fight about... I'm still not sure what. I finish, submit my prose, wander around my floor trying to find people. (There had been some discussion of watching Emperor's New Groove.) It being Friday night, no one's in except people busy studying. So.

So I leave, go to RecentEx's co-op house where he and his housemates are gearing up to watch The Professional (brief gloaty-moment while I revel in having watched a (good) movie that RecentEx (movie buff) hadn't ever seen) and join them. It's not a happy movie. They are about to continue the evening with the first Harry Potter when I get up to leave to find some food. They make KD. And RecentEx talks me down from my melancholy. I explain how weird it feels to feel like he's always the one I take it out on when I feel icky, and he points out that he's pretty much the only person in Kingston who would know how to deal with me. And it's true. Relief.

It doesn't make it better. It doesn't change the fact that I should learn how to do it myself, that I shouldn't always get into those moods in the first place. But it's nice to know that it's not something subversive and strange. It's good to know we're all on the same page. I think I'm getting better at dealing with my moods. I give people warning, I try to explain, and I try to stay calm. I actually managed to stay calm a lot longer than usual with the Boy, but eventually just cracked. It was kind of worse that way, actually, because then I'm very binary in state. Mehn. I'll work on it.

Awhile ago, RecentEx made the comment that he really liked the Odds song Truth Untold because it reminded him of how he wanted to remember a relationship. I like the song, but have to be honest and say that for most of my exes, a better song describing the memory would be Third Eye Blind's Never Let You Go. Not sure who's point of view it'd be from though. Hmm.

Today was good. I don't know where the Boy was all day, but I wish I could have taken him shopping with me. We wandered through (what I call) the Gidget Stores on the main street and I picked up some gifts I hope my parents will like (for their belated birthdays). I wanted to do Christmas shopping too. The afternoon just had a Christmas shopping kind of feel to it. You know?

I saw all kinds of small stupid gifts that reminded me of people, acquaintances, people I know here at Queen's. People who probably never give me a second thought. I pointed them out to RecentEx, and was actually about to buy one for my old lab partner, when he pointed out that I was wasting my time/money. It makes me sad, but he's so right about that sort of thing. It tears me up that I really don't matter to these people. Not that I'd know, because I don't think anyone's ever hated me, but I think I'd prefer that to the indifference I get from some people. Seriously.

Saw a comic book (sorry, graphic novel) illustrating The Metamorphosis and totally thought of MathieEx. If it weren't so insanely overpriced, I'd buy it for him for Christmas in a heartbeat. I saw a sweater, all rainbowy, pockets and hood and wool and snazzy; it was like lilephyte's technicolour dreamsweater. But it was $80 and I really can't justify buying myself Yet Another Sweater. It made me sad to think about my clothes though. So personality-less. Kind of. In the sense that I don't feel that the clothes I wear generally reflect who I am. Not particularly, anyway.

It was weird to find that sweater and find myself thinking that I'd really miss the town for the shopping, because there are amazing, cool stores here, and I probably won't find anything like them in a bigger city. then I remembered that I hate shopping, and then I realized that maybe that was why. I love the stores here because they're all offbeat. I can usually find an item or two that I love, and think are awesome, that totally match my personality. Back home, everything is mall-ish, and icky. The closest I get to happy is Old Navy, and that's just because the clothes are comfy. They're still crap. Here... there's hope. I'm not driven to the thought that I'd have to make all my own clothes.

Well, whatever. It's just a sweater. Just a song. I've had Jimmy Eat World in my head for the past couple days. Specifically Praise Chorus. And I'm liking it. I just... can't shake this feeling of being on the brink of something.

I was thinking about the Boy, and his place in Ottawa, and the insane amount of furniture and Stuff he has. RecentEx doesn't have furniture but he owns ten million movies and books and takes those with him everywhere. I thought about my room. Full of text books and an archive box full of books I bought here. What the hell do I own? What do I actually have that I can call mine? Essentially, just some books (not even all the ones I love -- mostly they're in my dad's library, and I just mooch) and clothes, and I don't even feel that the clothes express me that well. I'm 22 and have nothing to my name, yet can't plunge and buy a sweater I really, really love.

Sometime really soon, life is going to get really, really fucking real for me. Me and the Boy together. And I wonder what that will be like.

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