After Creative Presentations

I feel like I'm in a rut with my life right now. Something's missing, but I don't really know what, or how to explain it. I'm searching, searching for...meaning, maybe, and yet that's not exactly the right word. I don't fit in here, but I don't stick out either. I've felt different this semester, different in some unknown way. Maybe this is just the beginning of some kind of transformation. After this, I might be more certain of what I want out of life. Or maybe I'm just being weird and none of this even matters. I don't know. I'm bored of the routines in my life here, but I shouldn't be bored because I've been back for less than a month. I like the friends that I have here, but I'm not even sure what we have in common. I'll never feel comfortable in an Emerson Christian Fellowship meeting; I tagged along once because that's where all of my friends were going. Nope, I still have my same essential absence of religious beliefs. Tried that. Sometimes I question why I even want to be an artist. Everyone's so deep with their ideas here, and I'm like "this is what I think, I don't know if it symbolizes anything."Maybe my problem is that I barely have any time to create things, and when I do I'm not creating for myself anymore. I'm creating for shows, or for class. I haven't opened my sketchbook since I've been back; I've barely had time, let alone inspiration. Maybe I just don't know what to say.


I'm starting to sound like every other hipster who goes here. And yet, I think that I'm probably not losing myself. Maybe I'm finding myself. Everything's so strange in my mind.

This semester

is going to be insane, but hopefully it's worth it! The costume designer for our Shakespeare Society convinced me to interview to be her assistant, so I did, and I didn't think that I got it because they told me that I would have heard back that night. I didn't find out until last night, after having panicked about how much homework I have. So there's that. I'm only on for the first show,  but I think I'd just stay on for the rest of the semester if things work out. It's awesome that I got it, because none of the student groups really wanted me last semester. Since I'm not in a BFA program, there's a lot more for me to prove. We also have these lovely things called crew assignments, which basically says that the college will decide which show a freshman has to sell their soul to. Mine's the entire second half of February, conveniently timed with three group projects. Yay! I've already decided that I'll have to drop out of the school's fashion show, because it's in April and I don't think I get free time again until March. I can't make 5-7 outfits in a month, especially when there's homework going on.

...I really hope that I'll stop doubting my choice of major soon. It's not like I have any idea what else I'd study, so I'd better just get over that.

Post-Arisia Thoughts

I'm not usually the type to write stuff like this, but then again I never have this kind of stuff to write about. It's just a bunch of shit I'd love to say to the guy I spent most of the weekend with, having met him once six months before that. It's not important, just pisses me off.

Dear Guy,

You broke my heart in the span of a week. You hung out with my friends and told them how much you liked me, and yet yesterday you told me you met someone new. Who the fuck does that? You took advantage of the fact that I was several years younger and more innocent, and I believed you. At 18 years old, I would have expected that I, not you, would be the less mature one in that relationship. I'd never understood the game Dominion until you made me play it with you, and you know what? I didn't tell you, but I thought it fucking sucked. Sure, you learned how to play Cosmic so you could spend time with me, but for what? Maybe I wasn't sure I liked you until the end of the con, but that shouldn't be all it took to drive you away. If you'd actually cared, you would have tried harder than that. Fuck you. You didn't even go to college, so I'm going to go make something of myself now while you continue performing on street corners.

Tech week and finals week are the same week

And that's pretty much all I have time to say. It's pretty brutal, how little time I have to do everything ever.

Ugh

I'm sick of my suitemate's existence. I have the perfect opportunity to throw her out if I want to, but I'm not going to because I'm not a bitch like her. Essentially we've all been charged with three violations, for use/dealing, being under the influence, and knowing about it and saying nothing. I'm really only worried about that last one, but then again I've never witnessed her smoking pot in the suite, so I can't just blatantly state that she did it when there's only the smell for proof. Besides the fact that I'm only pretty sure that smell is pot, it's not like I've ever smoked it. If she gets us fucking thrown out, I don't know what I'll do.

Crazy Night

And then the campus police knocked on our door saying that our housing could be in peril if we don't stop smoking pot. But it's only that one damn girl that I don't like. We met with our RA after that (and like 2 others that she was with), and even though they took down our ID numbers, the RAs know it's not us. Essentially, if this girl does decide to threaten to kill us in our sleep, she'll be out, assuming we can report it. But we're not in danger because they know it's not us. Supposedly. Ughhhh. I hate this. We have to meet with the guy in charge of security for this building, but I have no time because I'm so busy with tech (and finals) week next week. I'm just really pissed off right now.

Suite Invasion

First of all, it's pretty awkward when people in your class are going on and on about smoking weed and how it's awkward to be around people who don't smoke weed. I just kinda stayed quiet for that. But anyway, Leah was asleep just now, and I was sitting on my bed teaching myself how to do needlepoint, when there was a knock on our suite door. "RAs on duty, open up!" There I was, thinking that someone in our suite had reported our pothead suitemate. He walked in saying someone outside could smell weed, which is pretty much always the case around our suite. Ugh. Unfortunately, or fortunately, said pothead suitemate was out somewhere when all this went down. I'm honestly a bit intimidated by her, like I think she'd kill Leah and I or something if one of us reported her.